The email has found me pausing for a moment and staring across the misty corridor–listening to the nocturnals’ chirping and night-time whistling like a symphony playing from afar. It wouldn’t be so bad if they were echoing in crescendo steps, but I don’t like the way they paused midline. I wish I knew what caused the unsettling interval–must be the dutiful night-watching, stray chonky furball. Not only am I compelled to transcribe it into a microfiction, but also I don’t think I’ve cited every paragraph I wrote.